ETAH TO CAPE SHERIDAN 45 



the crash, the upward heave, the grating snarl 

 of the ice as the steel-shod stem split it as a mason's 

 hammer splits granite, or trod it under, or sent it 

 right and left in whirling fragments, followed by the 

 violent roll, the backward rebound, and then the 

 gathering for another rush, were glorious. 



At other times, the blue face of a big floe as high 

 as the plank sheer grinding against either side, 

 and the ship inching her way through, her frames 

 creaking with the pressure, the big engines down 

 aft running like sewing-machines, and the twelve- 

 inch steel shaft whirling the wide-bladed propeller, 

 till its impulse was no more to be denied than the 

 force of gravity. 



At such times everyone on deck hung with breath- 

 less interest on our movement, and as Bartlett and 

 I clung in the rigging I heard him whisper through 

 teeth clinched from the purely physical tension of 

 the throbbing ship under us: "Give it to 'em, 

 Teddy, give it to 'em!" 



More than once did a fireman come panting on deck 

 for a breath of air, look over the side, mutter to him- 

 self, "By G — she's got to go through! " then drop into 

 the stoke-hole, with the result a moment later of an 

 extra belch of black smoke from the stack, and an 

 added turn or two to the propeller. 



At midnight all that could be said was that we 

 were nearer the west side than the east, and steadily 

 drifting southward with the pack. I quote from my 

 journal : " Slow and heart-breaking work. The Roose- 

 velt is a splendid ice-fighter and if she had her full 

 boiler power she would be irresistible. The ice is 



